


Planted

by Flavortext



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: I woke up at 4 am and had to write this, Its gay and fluffy, Other, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 13:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavortext/pseuds/Flavortext
Summary: “We’re keeping watch, Molly.” He says.The tiefling doesn’t pause before drinking, but sets his glass down after that, and meets Caleb’s eyes.





	Planted

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 4 am w this idea and wrote this so I edited on no sleep, forgive me (point out any mistakes and I'll fix 'em!)

The party comes across a town, overrun somewhat recently with plant life. It seems that the inhabitants have either fled or been swallowed by masses of vines and moss. They are attacked with a swarm of giant flies and vine-monsters, which Yasha dispels easily with her sword (though one of the flies nearly makes off with Nott). They make their stand in what used to be a high-end bar and immediately set to looting once it seems their foes are defeated. Molly goes behind the bar, comes up with a cash box stuffed full of silver, and a few nice glasses that look pawn-able. Caleb comes back to inspect an interesting rod, which turns out to be a wand charged with thunder wave, probably used to dispose of rowdy patrons. While he’s identifying, he just catches Molly slipping a bottle of liquor into his pack, glancing around as if trying to make sure no one saw. 

“What’s that for?” Caleb asks, putting his own find into his pack and blocking Molly from exiting. The tiefling jumps a little. 

“Just, ah,” Molly chuckles, a hand going to rub the back of his neck and wipe away some of the drying blood there. “Ya know, looting.” Molly is lying, Caleb cocks an eyebrow and crosses his arm. 

“What happened to ‘share with the party’ then?” He asks. Molly shifts from foot to foot. Caleb has rarely seen him squirm like this, and he refuses to make eye contact. 

“Okay,” Molly drops his voice, glancing over to where Nott if picking through some rubble. “I need it. I’m going to have... a conversation, with someone. One I’d rather not do sober. Personal stuff.” 

“Someone in the party?” Caleb asks, curiously. 

“Yeah, a personal one, if you catch my drift.” Molly rubs his temple and doesn’t look up at Caleb. If he had, he would have seen a flash of realization, followed by jealousy, then a tight-lipped scowl. 

“Ja, good luck with that.” Caleb turns on his heel and walk’s out of the bar, ignoring even Nott holding up a fancy necklace she’s found. He walks to the edge of town, where Beau and Yasha and just coming out of a house, and makes something up about starting to make camp. It’s just nearing dusk and everyone else is bruised and tired, and despite his own injuries Jester’s well-timed heal left him in pretty good shape, so Caleb sets about stoking up a fire and rolling out his bedroll. By the time the rest of the party joins, Molly somewhat later, and begins laying out and distributing their loot, Caleb is buried in a book he picked up in the last town. He puts it down only to identify a few objects and sulks for the rest of the evening. Nott picks up on it, keen on his patterns, but doesn’t push as to why. She brings Frumpkin over in her arms and leans into his side until both she and the cat fall asleep. Caleb gently brings her to her own bedroll (more a pile of dirty blankets) and tucks her in best he can. He catches Molly watching, having taken first watch, but averts his eyes and lies with his back to him, running his hands through his cat's fur until he falls asleep.

Caleb is distant the next day and the next. He laughs when Jester makes a joke and generally sits with the group, but always scoots away or even gets up and moves, always with an excuse, if Molly gets to close. Molly would be lying if he said it didn’t sting but he tries to give it time. They hit the next big town, this one featuring both an extensive public library and a tiny magic store with a whole shelf of spells and arcane books, and Caleb brightens and seems to put whatever was upsetting him behind. He even sits next to Molly when they find their way to the bathhouse. The human sits with his nose just above the steaming water, eyes closed as he soaks it in. Molly still gives him space, talk’s with the rest of them and prods and teases Beau for how her eyes wander in Yasha’s direction constantly. Fjord has to throw out a steadying arm to hold her back, and Molly takes that as a cue that their night could be better spent drinking and resting up for the next day of travel.  
He drinks a little more than he usually would, especially as more and more of the party peels off to bed, until it’s just him and Caleb, Nott having stumbled off to bed after a drinking contest with Beau. Caleb is nursing a glass and staring around, just watching the other patrons with unfocused eyes. Molly considers doing this here, but even after slamming down the rest of his drink he doesn’t feel nearly dizzy or brave enough, so he makes his exit. Fjord is already asleep, on a bedroll on the ground. Molly quietly rummages through his bag, finds the bottle of very fine liquor from the night with the vines, and dusts off the label some more. He stares into its amber depths, glinting in the moonlight through the open window, and finally puts it away, shaking his head somewhat vigorously, and goes about taking off his jewelry. He shifts around most of the night, chalks it up to cold when his movement’s wake even Fjord, infamously a heavy sleeper, and finally finds sleep.  
  
Caleb watches Molly go. He’s not oblivious, the tiefling has been staring at him most of the night, and he was just about to go over there, maybe to make sure he wasn’t mad about the whole ignoring-him-for-several-days thing, but before he could Molly slammed the rest of his drink and took off. Frumpkin purrs from his lap, nuzzling his hand gently to calm Caleb’s racing thoughts. Even slightly drunk his mind is swirling. He has trouble sleeping that night, playing the conversation in the bar and going through his list of who it could be that Molly was going to “talk” with. That line of thought only makes him feel sick, though, and eventually, sleep takes him.

They dance around each other in the coming weeks. Molly’s jokes and innuendos lessen, at least towards Caleb, and Caleb focuses on teaching Nott a new spell. They travel for a week, coming to rest at a lakeside town not unlike the one they first met in, and after solving a murder mystery and getting paid handsomely, they set off back the way they came, having gotten a letter from The Gentleman.  
They make camp in a jumble of rocks, surrounded by rolling hills. They’ve heard word of bandits in these parts, so they take watches in pairs. Molly and Caleb simultaneously offer to take second, and Jester shakes them both awake halfway through the night. Caleb observes that Molly looks shifty, and as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, watches the Tiefling staring intently at the ground, as if making a decision. It crosses his mind how handsome Molly looks, half lit by the fire, half by a nearly full moon. Molly shakes his head like a dog suddenly and crouches back down to rummage through his bag. Caleb stretches and untangles himself from his bedroll, and is tending to the embers and warming his hands when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Molly sits down heavily, holding a bottle. He takes his hand back to uncork it and silently pours himself a full shot. Caleb raises an eyebrow and Molly downs it and starts pouring another. 

“We’re keeping watch, Molly.” He says. The tiefling doesn’t pause before drinking, but sets his glass down after that, and meets Caleb’s eyes. 

“Your alarm is up, we’ll be fine.” Molly shrugs glances around as if to prove there’s nothing around, and starts on his third drink. Caleb shifts so he’s facing him. 

“Thought you were saving that,” Caleb says. He looks his friend over. Maybe Molly already had his conversation. Maybe it didn’t go well. Caleb’s eye’s shift to Fjord, who he’d settled on as the most likely focus of Molly’s affections. He looks back and the tiefling as they finish another shot. Molly smiles half-heartedly. 

“I was.” He says simply. Caleb watches as Molly takes another. 

“Didn’t go well, or have I been missing some secret romantic escapades?’ Caleb doubt’s the later, he’s got a keen eye, and though he’d never admit it, he spends a fair amount of time watching Molly. Nott’s called it pining, when she’s caught him, but never pushed the subject. Romance is not something Caleb is quite comfortable with. He’s had his share of experiences, a few hookups, but pinning is not something he’s familiar with. Especially not for someone, he considers a friend. He hasn’t had one of those in too long, and he’d be damned if he was going to let feeling muddy it up. 

“Haven’t had any yet.” Molly isn’t looking but has stopped drinking for the moment. He’s already flushing a bit, hard to notice under his lilac skin, but there. Caleb rolls that around in his head. A little tiny glimmer inside of him lights up, a thought he’d crushed down and refused to entertain, that Molly could be interested in him, but now it alights again. Caleb squints, doubt silencing the light in his head, and tilts his head. 

“What changed then, it wasn’t Yasha, was it?” He looks over at where Beau is, curled in on herself with a hand extended to meet the pale woman’s, who is sleeping sitting up against a rock. They’ve connected at some point in the last few weeks, Yasha not yet having called away on “business”, gone from flirting to holding hands each night, leaning in for the occasional cheek kiss or to rest ahead on the other’s shoulder. Molly has peppered them with praise, met with scowls from Beau and soft smiles from Yasha (and sometimes Beau smiles too, she’s practically glowing these days). Caleb searches his memories to see if those comments have been forced, but is drawn out by a bark of laughter. 

“No, gods no, Yasha?” Molly laughs again. “She’s practically my sister, and gay as hell. You’re smarter than that.” Molly is truly starting to flush now, whatever he’s been drinking is strong. 

“Who, then?” Caleb is surprised at his own boldness, and so it seems is Molly. Their eyes meet and lock for a few moments. Molly mutters something that sounds like “Not drunk enough” and pours himself another shot. Caleb puts a hand over the glass to stop him. “We’re still on the road, we need you functional tomorrow.” Caleb takes the glass away, setting it on the crushed grass on his other side. Molly sighs heavily and sits back on his hands. Caleb takes the bottle too, corks it, and sets it down. “I won’t pry. You’ve been distracted, lately. If you need to talk...” Caleb trails off, glancing back and Fjords sleeping form. It’s not that he couldn’t see the pair together, there’s plenty of potentials there, more he couldn’t see Molly being this cautious around this issue. He was always so forward, and he and Fjord shared a room, surely it would have come up by now. Which left...him. He couldn't see it being Jester, not that he thought Molly was necessarily only into guys, but it just didn’t click. Molly laughs again, head staring straight up, eyes roaming as if tracing the stars. 

“No, ah, fuck.” Molly runs a hand through his hair, sitting up again. “Give me a minute. Caleb nods, watching a conflict of emotions wash across his friends face. He patiently fiddles with the grass at his side as the minutes drag on. He turns away and stokes up the fire again. When he looks back, Molly is staring, hands folded in front of himself and shoulder hunched. He really hasn’t seen him like this, save for maybe that night when he shared his past with them. But this is a different kind of nervous, not peppered with frustration, or even the cautiousness he sees when they’re planning something risky. Molly looks small and flushed, Caleb would pin it down as embarrassed if that word didn’t seem so unlike the Molly he knew. 

“This is embarrassing.” Okay, there it was, then. “Fuck.” Molly was silent for a few beats. “I need to uh, talk.” Molly was not quite looking at Caleb, more off to the side. 

“I’m all ears.” Caleb nodded in what he hoped was a welcoming gesture. I’m in love with Fjord. He could almost hear Molly saying it. 

“To you.” Molly was tearing at grass not, sharp nails digging into the dirt. Caleb watched, keeping his face steady. “Um,” Molly finally met Caleb’s eyes. “I haven’t done this, before.” He started. “I’ve had sex, that’s easy. I haven’t done love.” The word stung Caleb, a little arrow in his chest. “I haven’t had time, or...friends. Family, sure, the circus. But not...like this. Like us.” Caleb isn’t sure if he means the group, or us. Molly continues though before Caleb can ask. “I don’t want things to get messy. When Yasha talked with me about Beau- of course, I was supportive, of course. But I was so scared. I don’t want anything messing up this. I want this to work.” again, Caleb wasn’t sure if he meant in a general sense. “I don’t want to scare you.”  
Caleb blinked, his brain was quick to jump to conclusions, to try and connect Molly’s word to meanings. “You aren't.” He manages, and it sounds strangled. 

“I took this,” Molly gestures too the bottle. “Because I needed to talk to you.” Caleb inhales sharply. “I haven’t done this before.” Molly repeats. He’s looking at Caleb, practically digging a hole in the ground next to him. “I haven’t felt this way about someone- I haven't wanted someone, wanted to love someone- I haven’t done this-” Molly goes to put his head in his hands, already curled in on himself, knees to his chest, but Caleb stops him with an outstretched hand. It’s automatic, and he isn’t sure where to put it so he just grabs Molly’s wrist. Molly makes a little noise of surprise. 

“Are you saying,” Caleb pauses, tries to collect his thoughts. “That you,” He struggles to find the right words. “Like me?” It sounds silly, Caleb feels like a teenager, he can feel his heart beating and his face going red. He closed his eyes halfway through the sentence, and he expects to hear Molly laugh. It doesn't come. Instead, he feels a warm hand on his outstretched hand. He releases Molly’s wrist, waits to be pushed away, laughed at, denied. The silence stretches on, Molly’s hand stays on his, not interwoven with his fingers, just resting there. Then, a quiet voice. 

“Yes.” It’s accompanied by a tug on his sleeve, enough to make him open his eyes. Molly is closer, biting his lower lip and holding Caleb’s hand in his. 

“Oh.” Is all Caleb says, and he kicks himself for it. He’s not very good with words, but actions, these kind of actions especially, are hard too. But he can’t stand the look of hurt on Molly’s face or the pounding of his heart, so he moves his hand as if through rushing water, and cups Molly’s cheek. The tiefling blinks, mouth opening a little in surprise. Caleb takes the chance and pushes forward, bringing his face within a centimeter of Molly’s, stopping just short. “Can I?” He whispers, but Molly has already closed the distance. He surges forward, hands on either side of Caleb’s face, nose crushed into his cheek. He’s soft and warm and his lips stay still for a moment before tilting, and Caleb kisses him back, unpracticed and clumsy but hard. Molly’s hands go to the back of Caleb’s neck and hold him there until the human has to lean away for air. Molly is grinning, biting his tongue between his teeth. Caleb has to avert his gaze as he catches his breath because all he wants to do is close that distance again. Molly keeps his hand on Caleb’s neck, though, and after a moment Caleb leans back in, pressing a softer kiss to his lips. He keeps it short, laughing when Molly tries to follow him as he pulls away. At some point, the hand that was on Caleb’s cheek tangled with his shirt, and Caleb takes it, holding Molly there for a moment. 

“You’re very drunk,” Caleb says, unable to control the smile that’s painted across his face. Molly just gives a shrug, he’s stopped grinning and looks a bit in shock. “I’ll take the rest of the watch, but,” Molly looks a little hurt, so Caleb squeezes his hand. “Stay, here.” Caleb tugs a bit on Molly’s hand, pulls him into his chest. The tieflings horns catch on his shirt, and he takes a second to adjust Molly, who just moves with him. Eventually, Molly’s head is resting in Caleb’s lap, one horn jutting only slightly uncomfortably into his stomach, and their hands are intertwined. Molly looks tired, and a bit cold, but mostly he’s just smiling up at Caleb, tracing a pattern on the humans hands.

  
“You let me pine for too long.” He accuses warmly. Caleb shakes his head.

  
“I didn’t think...” He trails off.

  
“You think too much.” Molly closes his eyes. Caleb can’t argue with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably write the Beau/Yasha half of this Later so keep an eye out


End file.
